“Not too bad,” she answered, feeling guilty for enjoying the sensual warmth of his long fingers through the thin fabric of her dress. They walked step for step across the travertine floor, past other beautifully dressed diners. Soft classical guitar music caressed the air, and the aromas of wonderful food drifted by as the maître’d showed them to a private table in a window nook.
Fiona realized they’d be partly screened from the other diners by spectacular tall black taffeta curtains looped aside with tasseled ivory ropes. The snowy damask tablecloth set with crystal and silverware glowed under candle-light and chandeliers. It was undoubtedly special, but she’d hoped for a less discreet table. Here she’d be the sole focus of Christian’s attention. The power of his intense eyes and charm would be hard to resist.
He dismissed the maitre’d with an easy smile and held the chair for her himself. Once he’d seated her, he bent and laid another soft kiss on her nape.
Shivers shot down to her toes.
He registered her tiny moan of anguish. Joyful satisfaction flooded his brain. Maybe she was feeling as frustrated as he was? He moved to take the chair opposite.
“Problem, Blondie?”
“Don’t touch me like that.”
“Like what? Like I want you?”
She gazed at him across the table; her agonized eyes beseeching him to stop his seduction. He had no doubt his expression would be as transparent as hers. His hunger to possess her must be written all over his face.
“Yes—like you want me,” she murmured.
“I’m finding it harder and harder to hide the truth,” he said, knowing he was really on the road to destruction now.
He leaned across the intimate space and dropped his voice to a husky drawl. “So here’s where I stand; I’ve wanted you for years. You’re like a gift I’m not allowed to unwrap. Or a delicious meal I’ve been forbidden to eat.” He set his teeth together to stifle any further admissions. But his eyes devoured her across the small table, and his hand reached across to enfold hers. He refused to relinquish it when she tried to pull away.
Fiona shook her head in denial.
“And Jan?” she demanded, sudden fierce fire in her eyes. “You loved her —of course you did. Not me.”
“Yes, I loved her. I was thrilled when she agreed to marry me. I’d never met anyone I wanted more.”
She nodded with apparent satisfaction at that.
“Never met anyone I wanted more until I met you,” he added.
“No!” she protested. “I didn’t try to steal you, or impress you, or anything. I was just my sister’s bridesmaid. You were marrying Jan.” Fiona shrugged as though truly puzzled.
Christian enjoyed the lift of her smooth shoulders and the annoyed pout that accompanied her comment.
“Of course I was. And happy to be. But you’re a far more vivid version of her. Everything about you is wound up a notch or two. If I wanted Jan, how could I not want you?”
He watched as her breasts rose and fell in a furious frustrated sigh. Her green eyes snapped up to meet his again, challenging and serious.
“You mustn’t think like that, Christian.”
“That’s the way it is, Blondie. You crept up on me over the years.”
“Not possible,” she said, making another attempt to retrieve her hand from his grasp.
He shook his head, refusing to let her go. “So there’s my guilty confession. Yes, I wanted your sister. And I want you even more.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“No...” Her brows drew together.
Was that a touch of uncertainty he detected in her tone and her expression? Time to go for broke, he decided.
“I’m itching to see you really turned on again,” he whispered. “So mad for me you’d forget the proprieties and just go for it—the way you grabbed me in the bathroom at home after I’d washed your hair. You know as well as I do there’ve been sparks between us. As the years passed, I hardly dared look at you when Jan was in the room.”
“You were never there. You mostly seemed to be away.”
“Hated going, Blondie. Knew I had to though.” He raised her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I’ve been trying so hard to resist you. It was incredible when you finally touched me. We’d be explosive together. You know we would.”
Her eyes hadn’t left his, but her expression definitely now showed her frustration. His heart rejoiced.
“Explosive maybe. But only for five or six days,” she said. “I’m booked to fly back to Rome on Tuesday. That’s all the time we have left.” She drew a deep breath and expelled it again, and Christian watched her gorgeous breasts rise and fall against the richly embroidered fabric.